The Curse of Empathy
by CeliaEquus
Summary: A curse causes Bucky to feel what everyone around him is feeling. It's overwhelming and a nuisance, until he realises that someone is in love with him. Trouble is... who is it? Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, or any other Marvel thingummies, nor am I making money from this.


"The Curse of Empathy"

Blinking the lights out of his eyes, Bucky tried to get his balance, but he just fell back onto the ground. He shook his head, yet the ringing sound of the witch's voice continued to fade slowly. The others were all far away; he knew that. He could hear them calling for him, and as his vision cleared he could see them running. With a heartfelt sigh, he heaved himself up, grasping the railing to stay on his feet.

"Buck, are you okay?" Steve was the first there, of course, but Thor landed beside him a split second later, and Tony carrying a semi-naked Bruce. Bucky flinched, staggering back towards the edge of the bridge.

"Don't!" he said sharply.

"What's wrong?"

Bucky tried to say it, but his tongue wouldn't work. He remembered the witch's last words before she'd disappeared: ' _You will never be able to tell them; the spell will only end when you have found what you are looking for_.'

Weird thing was, Bucky only engaged her when she made threatening moves against him. Up `til then, she'd been helping them in battle, and he'd only approached her afterwards to find out who she was. Instead, she'd attacked him with magic, and he'd defended himself, of course he had.

"Bruce, check him over," Steve said, steel in his voice. Bucky shook his head.

"Won't work," he said. "I'll heal up."

"There's something you're not telling me!"

He couldn't even say that he couldn't tell Steve! Frustrated, Bucky ground his left hand into a fist, the metal of the foreign object grating…

Foreign object? Would magic work on his arm?

Bucky wasn't left-handed, at least for writing, but he could damn well tap out Morse code. So he tapped his fingers together. Steve frowned.

"You can't tell me the problem?" he asked. Bucky tapped again. "You're cursed? That's why you can't tell us what it is?" He nodded, and Steve sighed. "Okay. Do you know how to break the curse?" Bucky paused, and then tapped as succinctly as he could. "Only when you find what you're looking for?"

"It may mean anything," Thor said.

"Is this a physical change?" Steve said. Bucky shook his head. "Okay. Let's just get back to base, then."

It was hard to keep away from everyone in a confined space, but the waves of feeling he was getting damn near bowled him over. Fortunately, he worked alongside a lot of smart and perceptive people who'd quickly worked out that being close to Bucky made him feel worse. Steve had guessed at Bucky's senses being enhanced. He wasn't far off.

"I told you all that it was in your best interests to make debriefings easy," Phil said, packing away the paperwork he'd made them sign. "Doesn't this feel so much better? Now you can go and put your feet up until dinner time. Don't forget to thank Bruce for patching you up."

"Yes, Mom," Tony muttered, and he glanced at Bruce. "Thank you, Brucey!"

"You're welcome," Bruce said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "See you at dinner."

"Movie night tonight!" Clint said. "Barnes, you in?"

It'd taken awhile to get used to being around the others, _enjoy_ hanging out with them after they got past their differences. Having to avoid them because of some dumb spell so soon after he'd fully integrated was a hell of a setback.

He wouldn't let it get the best of him.

"Sure," he said. "Just nothing with animals dying, or…" _Anything which could make any of you cry, or I'll start blubbering too_ was what he wanted to say, but it wouldn't force its way out. He sighed, and winced when feelings of concern buffeted towards him. He glanced up, and noticed that everyone was looking at him. And they all primarily felt concern… for _him_. Not that he was about to lose it, but about _him_ , what'd happened. Bucky had no idea how he could tell that – it was probably thanks to the empathy curse – but it made him feel warm. Until he noticed that the worry worsened the longer he stayed silent. It smothered him. "I'll see you later."

Then he dashed out of the room and ran to the row of elevators to catch one to his floor. A whole floor to himself. After all these months he was still in awe, which was handy, `cause if he got used to this and ended up back on the streets, it'd be a lot harder to readjust.

* * *

When it was time for the evening meal, JARVIS informed Bucky that Bruce, Phil, and Thor had cooked, and everyone was free to wander in to the dining room as soon as they were ready. Bucky shuffled along in his pyjamas and slippers, having had a hot shower after he returned to his room, and his stomach grumbled as he piled large servings of food onto his plate. He sat at the far end, and tucked in. There was still some concern for him there, but also relief (he looked normal, he hadn't lost his appetite, he was dressed), even some fondness. The fondness probably came from Steve, but there was something else there, something unfamiliar.

Not that any of this should've been even slightly familiar, but this was… _mysterious_.

He definitely felt pride from the three chefs. Thor's was especially overwhelming, as it always was when he proved himself able at the 'domestic activities' of 'mere mortals', to paraphrase. He couldn't tell Bruce's and Phil's shy pride apart, both of them avoiding eye contact as they tried not to smile. But Thor never bothered to hide his feelings, which meant they were louder than most of the others', those who always hid their emotions. Huh. Who knew that hiding emotions actually led to them feeling muted to other people? Was it even healthy to suppress that much…?

…Okay, that was a little hypocritical.

"Best I've ever tasted," he said. He wanted a little less of the concern, and a little more of the… oh, yeah. Those were good feelings. Shit, good feelings were like a drug, weren't they? He'd made people happy, and that was echoing inside of him. It made him smile, and when he noticed that others were smiling back, the happiness increased two-fold, because he felt his own as well as theirs.

There was that foreign feeling, though. There was more than happiness. More than fondness. He'd looked down, returning to his food, when he felt it beat at him.

 _Want. Love. Despair._

Bucky's fork clattered and his head jerked up, but no one was looking. At least not until the sound of cutlery hitting chinaware registered. He picked his fork up again.

"Lost my grip for a sec," he said before anyone could ask. Then he had to follow it up. "Easy to do even without lubrication."

He heard a couple of people choke on their drinks, and felt badly about the jabs of pain they felt. But there was a hefty undercurrent of amusement, and a definitely wallop of lust which he couldn't isolate. A few had red cheeks from choking on their drinks, so he didn't know whether he could discount them or not.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"No, you're not," Steve said.

"Should've checked to see whether anyone was drinking, I guess."

"Sometimes I forget you two were in the army," Tony said. "The only way I can get past Captain America swearing."

Steve had passed the point where he'd correct people about him being Steve Rogers when he was out of uniform. Chances were Tony did it to needle him, and the best retaliation was waiting for him to grow bored. Either that or a prank war, which Bucky knew Steve was planning. It was only a matter of hoping to be asked to help out; plotting mischief was no fun on your own.

* * *

Movie night. They didn't tend to watch action films – or TV show marathons – after a day of fighting, and when magic or fancy tech was involved they also avoided fantasy and sci-fi. As Bucky had requested no animals dying, they decided against any film with any dying, which left out most drama, nearly all Disney, leaving either a musical, comedy, romance, or a mixture. Basically.

So they settled on _Guys and Dolls_ , with subtitles for the lyrics so that they could sing along if they wanted to. Bucky found it fascinating to concentrate more on the way his… his _family's_ emotions fluctuated with the film. Sometimes they were at odds with each other, but they mostly reacted – at least on the inside – as the film-makers intended. Maybe Bucky's purpose in life was to be a market analyst for movies? Go along to those screenings and see what the audience reacted to the most?

…Or he could go bang his head against a wall.

But he couldn't deny his curiosity about the strong feelings of love he'd sensed before, and not the kinds of love he could feel between the people here. Thor mentioned Jane, and Bucky had felt the strong affection bordering on love, laden with confidence and satisfaction in requited feelings. When Pepper and Tony were together, there was _something_ , dependence and frustration and worry mixed with quiet love.

He _knew_ how feelings were directed, when he sensed individual ones. It was harder when the two leads were singing a love duet, and everyone was caught up in the moment (except Bucky, who was caught up in _everyone else's_ moment). Some pining (probably Thor, Bruce, Clint, maybe even Steve), but one dull throb of… again, it was _despair_ he could feel, complete lack of hope. He knew they were all capable of deeper and darker emotions, but was anyone here the type…? Probably. Who was it, though? It couldn't be anyone in a relationship, so was it in fact Natasha or Bruce or Rhodey, or Sam or Steve, or Phil or Maria?

"I'm… gonna get popcorn," he whispered during a quiet moment. He was starting to get a headache. "Anyone want?"

"We can pause the movie," Clint said.

"I can still hear. Just bring in another large bag?"

Steve nodded as the others shushed them, so Bucky ducked out. The barrage of emotions faded with distance, but… but that unfamiliar 'voice' was still there, turning sadder as he left. As… Bucky left. Was that because he was leaving? Were they…?

He nearly ran into the kitchen area and leaned against the counter for a few seconds, trying to catch hold of this thought and fathom it out. If that same person he kept feeling was sad about him leaving, what if their _other_ emotions were directed at Bucky as well? What if the despair and the love and everything was about _him_? It had to be impossible, just had to be. No one would ever… no matter how much he wished… it wouldn't happen. Couldn't. _Shouldn't_.

But what if it did? What if he could have this? If someone was in love… No. He couldn't even finish the sentence in his head. There was no reason to think anyone could be in love with Bucky.

Still, he poked his head back into the room, and waited for the right moment to clear his throat. A number of heads turned in his direction, though he couldn't identify all of them because they were silhouetted.

"Drinks?" he asked.

Negative replies, but that didn't matter; because when whoever it was had noticed he was back, they'd felt a burst of joy, before it ebbed away when he turned to leave. He prepared the largest bag of popcorn he could, then returned to the lounge, where he nearly tripped at the wave of happiness his mere presence caused in at least one person. But that particular voice he hadn't identified was nearly as strong as… well, probably Steve's. He distributed the popcorn into waiting bowls, then sat back with his own, and shoved a handful into his mouth.

Steve wasn't the only one who had a head for strategies, and Bucky's was simple enough: identify the various strands of feelings he was getting, seek out and isolate himself with all the different people in this room until he found the one voice he was looking for, and then… wing it from there.

(Hey, their plans always ended up being blown outta the water anyway. What was the point in hashing out details when they wouldn't even matter in the long run?)

* * *

By the end of the film Bucky was pretty sure he'd managed to divide the voices (and didn't he sound like a crazy person?), so by breakfast-time he was ready to start tracking down everyone who'd been at movie night. So far he'd crossed off Steve, who'd checked in on Bucky when he went to bed early, head aching again; Bruce and Tony, who called him to the lab to check his arm and general health, and make sure nothing bad had happened overnight; and Sam, who'd been working out in the gym with Steve when Bucky went there before breakfast.

In the kitchen making their own breakfasts, aside from the people Bucky had already crossed off, were Rhodey, Clint, and Natasha. The others were all at work. Bucky was pretty sure the feelings intertwining with Tony's belonged to Pepper, so he could cross her off the list, and the others in the kitchen weren't the right voice, either. It didn't leave many people, and Thor had already taken off for parts unknown (i.e. wherever Jane was), so if it was him… nah. His strand of feelings was different as well. It definitely didn't leave many people, which was good, of course. The mystery was nice, but he wanted to solve it ASAP.

And… it left Maria and Phil. The two SHIELD liaisons.

So which one was it? They were both closed off people, aside from the occasional glimpses of affection for the team that Bucky saw from Phil. Maria's smiles were for show, for the most part, and she definitely didn't flutter around like a mother hen when any of them were hurt. If life was a movie, Bucky would already be in love with whomever it was, and it would be the only person left to check.

The feelings were strong, which didn't mean much. Either they were usually suppressed, or they weren't hidden at all, except whenever Bucky happened to look at… whichever agent it was. They both had excellent poker faces.

He knew he shouldn't have tried to work out which one he wanted it to be, in case he picked the wrong person. But he sat down, poking at his cereal, and contemplated the matter. On the one hand, Maria Hill. A beautiful dame – by modern standards – who knew how to defend herself and didn't take crap from anybody. Who could smile at you once second, have you on the ground in the next, and not in a fun way. The kinda girl Bucky liked, once upon a time. Except he liked `em with warmth and no hint of fear. He only ever got coldness from Maria, and he was pretty sure she'd never fully trust him.

On the other hand, there was Phil Coulson. One of the nicest guys Bucky knew, maybe the nicest after Steve. Honourable, self-sacrificing, heroic (a bit too damn like Steve, in some respects). Admired the Howling Commandoes, counted Captain America as part of them and not a separate being, took care of the team in ways no one else would bother with. He smiled at them, which was actually enough to make any of their days, showed no hint of distrust (only apprehension if Stark was building something simultaneously ingenious and dangerous). They all looked to him for approval. Half the time Maria was there was to balance out the number of women, still woefully lacking. Bucky bet Natasha and Pepper were looking forward to Jane and Darcy returning.

…Getting off-track. Bucky felt Steve's concern, so he sat up straight and tucked into his breakfast, even though he couldn't really taste it. Because while he knew about same-sex relationships and the push for equality, Phil was still a man, and Bucky had only ever gone for the girls. Besides, it was academic. Just because he displayed more affection towards the Avengers didn't mean that Maria wasn't harbouring some secret passion for Bucky. He couldn't write her off yet. And it wasn't fair to _either_ of them to be thinking about this.

"I'm okay," he said, before Steve could even start. "In fact, I'm gonna make a trip to SHIELD today. Get out of the house for awhile, see if I can handle all the…" But he couldn't say what the problem was, and in Morse code tapped 'I hate this'.

"D'you want me to take you there?" Steve said. "Just in case you find it hard to drive or something."

Bucky wanted to object, but considering how it felt during movie night he knew he had to be sensible. And he needed to deal with this as soon as possible. He needed to discover whoever it was who was (possibly) in love with him. At least something good would come out of this whole magic fiasco, for however long it lasted. Maybe having someone there who wasn't Steve would make Bucky feel better? Someone who could give him a head massage if the pain got too much?

"How soon can you be ready to leave?" he asked.

* * *

He'd left Steve talking to some junior agents, and made his way silently through the SHIELD base, taking the hallways with the fewest people. The resulting headache made him scowl with the pain, and the worst of it was that he could feel people's fear, their distrust of him. By the time he was nearing Phil's office, he was reluctant to go further. He paused, and when he started moving again, heading back the way he'd come, he bumped into Maria. He got some feelings of suspicion from her, a little bit of worry, definite curiosity. But it _wasn't_ the same 'voice', the one he was after.

"Agent Hill," he mumbled.

"What're you doing at SHIELD, Sergeant Barnes?" she said.

"Just… visitin' Phil."

"Oh?" She arched an eyebrow, and he tried to identify the change in emotions. "You were headed in the right direction."

"Not sure it's a good idea…" He nearly shrank back, especially when anger directed towards him made its way into whatever her 'voice' was. "I'll…"

"You made a trip in especially to see Phil when he lives at the tower with all of you," she said. Well, when she put it like that, it sounded suspicious.

"Uh…"

"If it's SHIELD-related, you could have called him, unless you have… other plans while you're here?" she said.

"It's personal," he said, before realising that that wasn't the best defence. It was nice of her to be so protective of Phil – he could feel that for sure – but he didn't like being interrogated when all he wanted to do was see Phil and solve this damn mystery. "I mean… it's `tween me an' Phil."

"You should restrict discussions about personal matters to somewhere off-base."

"Like you said," he replied, baring his teeth, "I made the trip `specially to see Phil, and I'm gonna." He stepped around her. "See ya, Agent Hill."

He could still sense her negative emotions towards him, but there was nothing he could do about it. She didn't like him, sure as hell didn't love him, and he didn't see why he should make the effort to change things. Still, his feet slowed as he neared Phil's office, again questioning whether he should do this. People hated and feared Bucky, as they should. If anyone, no matter who it was, actually loved him – love-loved him – didn't he owe it to them not to drag them down? But did he have a right to take their choice away, just as choice had been denied him time and again?

"I can do this," he said, and he knocked on the door.

"Come in!" Phil called. Bucky turned the knob, pushed, and stepped into the office.

"Hi, Phil."

The agent looked up, and without other people there crowding out the other sensations, Bucky got the full effect of it, dropping to his knees at the sheer elation and _love_ coming from Phil. The joy almost immediately disappeared, replaced with concern and fear. But not fear of Bucky; fear _for_ him. He barely registered Phil's voice as the man knelt in front of him, tilting Bucky's head and patting his cheeks.

"S'you," Bucky slurred, feeling off-balance. He met Phil's eyes. "All `long."

"Bucky, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Is it the cur—"

He didn't have time to finish, because Bucky cut him off as he latched on, hauling Phil close as he mashed their lips together. He felt Phil's shock – could feel it in the way the agent froze in place – and kept kissing until Phil began to return it. Uncertain at first, then hopeful as he tipped his head to the side. It felt so much _better_ when Bucky deepened the kiss, and he kept Phil pressed against his body, wishing he could have this every day. He needed it more than air, although he had to accept a breather when Phil pushed his chest back so they could part. He was soon ready to go again, and growled something unsavoury when Phil stopped him.

"Where… the _hell_ … did that come from?" Phil said.

It all came spilling out, what the witch had done, everything since then, including the moments when he felt someone's overwhelmingly strong feelings of affection. His determination to find out who it was that might _possibly_ be in love with him.

"…an' then everyone I met coming along here was scared of me," he said. "I thought maybe I shouldn't find out, `cause no one wants to be with a monster, but then I found myself here anyway. An' when you saw it was me… it damn near knocked me out with how much you… w-want me." He knew there were probably tears on his cheeks, but he didn't care, because this was Phil. It was _Phil_. The agent glanced to the side.

"Oh," he said. "I think… I don't think you _meant_ to kiss me."

"What?" Was Bucky wrong about this?

"It's true that I… have strong feelings for you. Strong enough that… with your curse of empathy, they might've made you act in a way you wouldn't. Feel something you wouldn't. I'm afraid that's my fault. I… I made you kiss me because—"

"Wait here a sec," Bucky said, and he scrambled to his feet. He ducked his head into the hallway and saw a couple of juniors walking along. "Hey!" They jumped and stared at him, but he didn't get anything from them. No terror, not like their bodies were portraying. Not even a hint of worry. "Never mind. On with your work."

He moved back into Phil's office and shut the door, before sinking to the ground before him. There was nothing coming from him anymore, but Bucky's observational skills told him enough.

"It wasn't you," Bucky whispered. "It was me. Sometime during the… the kiss, the spell ended. I couldn't tell anyone what she'd done to me before, an' a few minutes ago I would've felt the baby agents' fear when I glared at `em. Now all I feel is my own feelings. It's lonelier, I guess, but being able to sense how everyone else felt was overwhelming. It's better this way. Means I know…" He met Phil's eyes, and his heart missed a couple of beats. "It's all me. I _wanna_ kiss you, `cause that's how I feel. Not doin' it because you want me to. I'm my own person again, an'… an' if you're not scared-a me, d'you wanna… I don't know what people do on dates nowadays, but whatever it is people do?"

Phil stroked Bucky's cheeks, and then cupped the back of his head.

"Yes," he said hoarsely. "If you're sure this is what you want—"

"It is. You remember the witch's words? The spell would only end when I found what I was looking for. This is it. I _want_ , Phil. I… I'd forgotten what it was like to want something – someone – this much."

"I'll never let you forget again."

* * *

When Bucky and Phil returned from dinner – having gone straight there after Phil finished for the day, while Bucky caught up on more of the pop culture he'd missed lounging around in Phil's office with a StarkPad – he skittered back at the sight of the witch. Tall, blonde, beautiful, and standing beside Thor, who grinned when he saw both of them.

"My brother Barnes, Son of Coul!" he boomed. "Come and meet my mother, Queen Frigga of Asgard!"

Bucky's jaw dropped. "You're…"

"I apologise for casting a spell on you," Queen Frigga said, her voice much calmer now that she was no longer enchanting him. "I believed it to be for the best, to feel for yourself how your friends felt about you. It is over now?"

Nodding, Bucky clutched on to Phil's hand.

"Yeah," he said. "Spell's broken. I…"

"You found whatever you sought?" she said.

"Uh-huh. I guess… thank you?"

"You are welcome, Sergeant Barnes," she said, inclining her head. "I must return to Asgard before your father sends for me, my son."

"Fare you well, Mother," Thor said. He bent his head enough so that she could kiss him on the forehead. Frigga said good-bye to the rest of them, and Thor accompanied her to the balcony door.

"A queen hexed me into feeling other people's emotions," Bucky said, blinking rapidly as he came to terms with it. "Huh. I've reached that point in my life where the weirdest things don't actually surprise me anymore."

* * *

 **Indeed.**

 **This wasn't based on any prompt (and we need more Phucky prompts on the Kink Meme, folks!), although I did read a prompt once where Tony was cursed with empathy. Never got around to filling it, but I liked the idea.**

 **Please review!**


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